


I'll Keep You Safe

by missbecky



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cuddling, Fluff, Harry Speaks Italian, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 18:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry and Eggsy's first mission in the field together. So naturally it goes spectacularly wrong, and they end up caught in a blizzard, needing to take shelter from the storm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Keep You Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Because I unashamedly love this trope, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. With many thanks to [HumanTrampoline](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HumanTrampoline/pseuds/HumanTrampoline) and [Wordsplat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsplat/pseuds/Wordsplat) for their help with Harry's Italian.
> 
> This fic is now translated into Chinese by the incredible [orange_s](http://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_s). [You can read it here](http://www.mtslash.org/thread-215628-1-1.html)

**Now**

The blizzard is reaching its full force, and Harry is dreaming about the church again.

At least once a week this happens, and right now, watching him carefully, Eggsy wants to laugh hysterically. Because seriously? After everything else that's already happened to them today, now there's this.

Not that he can be certain, of course. Harry has never said anything to him about it. He refuses to acknowledge the nightmares at all. But they are impossible to ignore, and Eggsy hates them. He hates hearing Harry moan in his sleep, pleading _no no no_ , as though he's reliving the whole horrible thing all over again, only this time he's aware of what he's doing and trying to make himself stop. Or so Eggsy imagines. Whatever it is that Harry sees in those dreams, it must be fucking horrible to make him moan like that.

Eggsy tries to scoot over, to give Harry the space he needs. One black eye a few months ago was all it took to teach him that he can't get too close to Harry after the nightmares. But he's lying between Harry and the wall, so there's really nowhere for him to go. If Harry lashes out at him when he first wakes up, he's just going to have to roll with the punches – literally.

Outside, the wind is howling like it's in agony. It's still snowing, but at least it's not coming inside anymore. Not in here, at any rate, although he can't speak for what's happening at the front of the cabin. Their fire, pitifully small to begin with, is almost out. Eggsy presses himself up against the wall and hisses in pain as his injured leg moves more than he'd like. At least he can feel his feet again, which is a good thing. He doesn't fancy getting frostbite and losing some of his toes.

Next to him, Harry moans again.

_Merlin, if you're out there, feel free to send help anytime, mate._

_Like right now would be good._

****

**Two Days Ago**

"Merlin, bruv, if you don't think I can do this, then just say so!"

With a long-suffering sigh, Merlin reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "No one is saying that, Gawain."

"Then what's the big deal?" Eggsy demanded.

"The 'big deal', as you call it," Merlin replied, "is that Cavaldi had a nervous breakdown after the events of V-Day, and he hasn't worked since then. Which makes the information he claims to have highly suspect."

"So he's lying," Eggsy shrugged. "Should be easy enough to figure out."

"It's not that simple," Merlin said dryly. He was holding his ever-present clipboard in one hand; with the other he gestured to the screen on the dining room wall. "Our surveillance has put Cavaldi in close proximity with his former boss three times since July. Which means he is either lying about not working for them anymore and his intel is nothing more than a trap for us, or—"

"Or he's being lied to by his old boss, and his intel is still a trap for us, only he doesn't know it," Eggsy finished.

"Precisely," Merlin said.

Eggsy considered this, then shrugged again. The mission didn't seem all that hard. Meet up with old Italian guy. Find out if old Italian guy really had worthwhile information about his possibly-former employer, a company known to cook up really nasty chemical warfare shit in their labs and then sell it to the highest bidder. Leave old Italian guy. Get out of town. Return home in time for dinner.

Merlin turned from the image of Cavaldi hanging frozen on the wall. "Galahad? What do you think?"

Eggsy turned, too. 

It was a sight that never failed to make him smile, Harry sitting in his accustomed chair at the enormous dining room table above the tailoring shop, spectacles on, pinstriped suit immaculate. "I think that il signor Cavaldi is used to dealing with me, and he won't talk to Gawain," he said. "I'm going with him."

Eggsy's smile became a grin. "Yesss," he exulted.

Merlin shook his head. "You haven't been cleared for field duty yet."

"A mere formality, and one I'm sure Arthur is willing to overlook, given the time frame we're dealing with," Harry said. "If we don't meet with Cavaldi by the day after tomorrow, he'll be out of our reach for the next few months. And if his information is valid, then we can't afford to lose this chance." He paused, then moved in for the kill. "Besides, Eggsy doesn't speak Italian and I do."

"Yeah," Eggsy chimed in. "What he said."

Merlin didn't even glance at Eggsy. "Are you sure?" he asked Harry.

Harry gazed back at him, composed as ever, as if he wasn't perfectly aware that both Eggsy and Merlin were now staring at the scar that Valentine's bullet had left above his eye. "You ask that as if you expected me to really answer." He stood up. "We'll be ready to leave tonight. Please arrange for someone to take care of Gawain's dog, would you?"

Still grinning – but really trying not to – Eggsy stood up as well.

His first field mission with Harry. Finally.

****

On their way to the armory, Eggsy said, "Arthur can't stop us, can he?"

"He certainly can," Harry replied. He glanced over at Eggsy and gave him a reassuring smile. "But I don't think he will. He wants me to be out in the field again as much as I do."

Eggsy didn't know the new Arthur, so he had to take Harry's word for that. He would be forever glad that no one had expected Harry to become the new Arthur after Chester King's death. As he had since found out, traditionally within Kingsman when one Arthur retired, the next senior agent took his place, by then being more than ready for the job due to advancing age. There was a vote to make it official, but in the organization's entire existence, Harry had explained, there had never been any dissenters. Anyone who had lived long enough to "retire" from the field and settle into Arthur's role more than deserved the rank.

They reached the armory and began gathering the items they might need. It was late October and even if they didn't need the Rainmakers for official Kingsman business, they would serve nicely as plain old umbrellas. Eggsy chose one of the gold lighters and a pair of sunglasses, but left the weapons where they were. Even after all these years, Cavaldi refused to meet with Harry if he came armed. 

The fact that Harry could kill him with his bare hands was something that had apparently never entered his mind.

"So what do you think?" Eggsy asked. "Are we walking into a trap?"

"Possibly," Harry said. He didn't seem too worried about it. "Cavaldi has been providing us with intel for years. But a man who can be bought by one side can be bought by the other just as easily."

"You really think that's what's happened here?" Eggsy asked. He couldn't decide if he wanted that to be true or not. Part of him wanted his first mission with Harry to be an exciting one. Maybe even dangerous. But another part of him didn't care. He was just thrilled to finally get this chance.

"We'll know one way or another soon enough," Harry said, and that was all he would say on the subject.

****

The flight to Turin was uneventful. Harry gave him a crash course in some of the more useful Italian phrases he might need to know, but there wasn't really enough time to get deep into the language.

Eggsy didn't mind. He was far more turned on than he would have thought possible just by listening to Harry speaking Italian. He made a mental note to ask Harry to speak it to him again once they were back home and alone in the bedroom. Just the thought of Harry murmuring to him in Italian in between burning hot kisses was enough to make him shift in his seat, his trousers uncomfortably tight all of a sudden.

If Harry noticed his unease, he didn't say anything. "We're meeting Cavaldi in Aosta," he said. "It's a small town in the Italian Alps. He has a villa there."

"So we're just gonna show up at his house?" Eggsy asked. It sounded way too easy.

"Yes," Harry said. "Although not right away. There is a prearranged set of signals that must be met first. Once we arrive, we will wait outside at a café. If everything is going according to plan and the meet is on, we need do nothing. But if there is a reason to call it off, we turn a coffee cup upside down."

Of course. He should have known it wouldn't be that simple. "And Cavaldi?"

"If he can make the meeting, there will be a potted plant set out by the front door of the establishment across the street from the cafe. If not—"

"No plant," Eggsy finished with him.

Harry nodded. "In the ten years I have dealt with him, Cavaldi has only called the meeting off twice."

It sounded all well and good, but Eggsy still wasn't too sure about the whole thing. Everything seemed a lot more complicated than it needed to be. "I guess," he said. 

His skepticism must have showed on his face, because Harry said, "What is it?"

"Secret signals and meetings," Eggsy said. "It's just…it's all a bit James Bond, innit?"

"Says one spy to another," Harry teased, and Eggsy couldn't help smiling back.

****

**Now**

The wind outside is practically screaming as Harry finally wakes from his dream of the church. He's instantly sitting up, breathing heavily, every muscle in his body taut with tension as he looks around. Seeking his next target, maybe.

Pressed between him and the wall, Eggsy lies perfectly still and tries not to call attention to himself. He doesn't particularly want to get socked in the mouth right now.

After a little while, Harry exhales loudly and slumps. Eggsy gnaws at his lower lip, then decides it's okay, the danger has passed. "Harry?"

Harry doesn't speak. He never does after the nightmares. Some nights he consents to let Eggsy snuggle close to him, although he never lets himself be held. Most nights, though, he just lies down and pretends to go back to sleep again. Eggsy can never decide which is worse.

Either way, he has to speak up. "Harry," he says again. "The fire."

Harry looks at it and mutters, "Shit." He throws back the blanket with his good hand and gets up.

Instantly the loss of his body heat bites into Eggsy's body, making him shiver. Fuck, it's cold in here. The blanket they've been huddled under is thin and full of holes. It's better than nothing, of course, but without Harry beside him, the blanket might as well not be here at all, for all the warmth it provides.

He hopes to God their clothes have dried off by now. He hopes they can keep the fire going. 

He hopes someone from Kingsman is able to find them soon.

Harry tosses a couple more chunks of wood onto the fire, pushing at the whole construct delicately, like he's worried it will fall apart and they'll have to start all over. Even hunched over in front of the fire, he's shivering. In the dim light, the dried blood on the back of his neck is pitch black.

"You know," Eggsy says, "I always fancied going on a little mini-holiday. This isn't quite what I had in mind, though."

"I should imagine not," Harry says dryly. He pokes another stick onto the fire, then scrambles back over to where they've made their bed on the floor. A sharp hiss of pain escapes him as he settles in beside Eggsy, his injured arm pressed to his chest.

"You know that's broken, yeah?" Eggsy says.

"I know no such thing," Harry replies tartly. "How's your ankle?"

"Not broken, either," Eggsy says right away. He's fairly certain that it's true, too, not just wishful thinking on his part.

Harry nestles in close, careful not to jostle his leg. He pulls the blanket tight across them both, and they wrap around each other, as close as they can get. Grateful for the warmth, Eggsy presses his face to Harry's chest. "We're gonna be okay," he murmurs.

"Of course we are," Harry says.

For a while they don't speak. Eggsy breathes in deep, smells the coppery tang of blood and the fading scent of Harry's cologne. He can feel the steady beat of Harry's heart beneath his cheek. At any other time he would luxuriate in the feel of so much naked skin on skin, but now he only cares about staying warm, about surviving this night.

"Talk to me," he murmurs.

"About what?" Harry says.

"Talk to me in Italian," Eggsy says. "I liked that."

Harry's chest moves up and down a little as he huffs out a faint laugh. "Did you?"

"Yeah," Eggsy says, and he might be blushing a little, but he doesn't really mind, because he could use the heat.

Harry doesn't answer at first. Then he takes a deep breath and he starts to speak.

Eggsy doesn't understand a word of it. All he knows is the beauty of the language, and the melody laced throughout. He closes his eyes and focuses on the sound of Harry's voice, on the feel of Harry's body entwined with his. After a while he realizes that among the unfamiliar words there is one phrase that is repeated over and over, _Ti terrò al sicuro_ , and he wants to know what it is, but he doesn't want Harry to stop, and he can feel himself falling asleep, so instead he just makes a mental note to find out what the words mean when they get back home.

Because they're going to make it. They _will_ get back home.

****

**Yesterday**

The signals were all in place. The meet was on.

Cavaldi's villa was located high in the Alps, set on a snowy mountaintop with a view that commanded the entire valley and the town below. It was pretty impressive for a guy who supposedly had only been middle management. "How does he explain all this?" Eggsy asked. "I mean, obviously he can't go around telling people that he gets payoffs from Kingsman."

"I don't know, and I don't particularly care," Harry replied. "That is not our concern."

Eggsy just nodded and looked around. The sun was out right now, but the weather forecast was calling for a major storm to blow in later today, adding to the snowpack already covering the mountains. It was beautiful country, and he kind of wished they had time to explore it further. No one had ever told him if Kingsman had a policy on holiday leave, he realized. Maybe that was something he should ask about.

Together they got out of their hired car and walked toward the house. The day was bright enough to require their Kingsman sunglasses, and they both carried their umbrellas. Harry led the way, Oxfords crunching on the snow, the dark navy of his suit standing out crisp against all that white. He had left his coat in the car – one of the many conditions for meeting with Cavaldi, like going into his house unarmed. 

Cavaldi himself answered the door. He was nearly as tall as Harry, and very thin. He looked at them both, then nodded and stood aside so they could come in.

"Signor Cavaldi," Harry said as they went inside, "È bello rivederti." _It's good to see you again_ , one of the few phrases Eggsy had learned on the plane.

"Si, si," Cavaldi muttered.

And that was pretty much the end of the conversation that Eggsy could follow.

Cavaldi did not offer them drinks. He did not seem pleased to see them, either; he looked nervously at Harry, and he ignored Eggsy altogether. In spite of the bright sun outside, the house itself was dim, with the blinds all drawn and no lights on. Eggsy exchanged his sunglasses for the standard black Kingsman frames and watched as Harry did the same.

After that there was nothing for him to do. Nobody spoke to him and Merlin didn't whisper in his ear to offer any instructions. Playing his role as subordinate, Eggsy sat near the front door on a narrow, uncomfortable armchair, while Harry and Cavaldi sat together on the couch. For a while he was content just to listen, hands clasped over the curved handle of his umbrella, legs crossed like a proper gentleman. Italian was a beautiful language, and Harry spoke it with an elegant fluency Eggsy admired. Not being able to follow the conversation left him in the position of being able to simply appreciate what he was hearing, and he became more determined than ever to bring this side of Harry into the bedroom.

After a little while, though, he began to notice that Cavaldi seemed more than simply nervous. Quite often he glanced around, looking particularly at the front door before returning his attention to Harry and the flash drive they were discussing.

Maybe this was typical behavior for Cavaldi and maybe it wasn't. Either way, Eggsy found himself sitting up a little straighter. He couldn't tell if Harry had noticed, or if he had but was pretending that he hadn't.

 _Be ready for anything,_ he told himself. _Be ready._

The conversation on the couch finally began to wind down. After a rather long speech, Cavaldi held out the flash drive. With obvious reluctance, he let go of it, and Harry took possession of the drive and whatever data it contained.

Which was right when the front door blew in.

Immediately Eggsy was on his feet. Splinters from the door fluttered through the air all around him. For half a second bright sunlight spilled inward, then it was blocked out as men dressed in full combat gear swarmed into the house.

Everything seemed to slow down around him, the way it had in Valentine's bunker, the way it always did when the shit hit the fan. At once Eggsy saw that there were too many of them, that he and Harry were vastly outnumbered.

And they were unarmed.

Cavaldi started shouting in Italian. Eggsy raised his umbrella and opened it even as the first shots were fired. It wouldn't hold for long against so much firepower, but it would last long enough to allow him to reach into his pocket for the golden lighter.

"Behind you!" Harry shouted.

"Gawain, what's going on?" Merlin demanded through the earpiece of his glasses.

There was no time to answer. Following that single command from Harry, Eggsy pivoted on one foot and threw the lighter over his right shoulder -- not at the men who had just come in the front door, but the ones who were approaching back door, the ones he hadn't even seen.

Here there was a sliding glass door which led onto a wooden deck. As Eggsy watched, his umbrella still shielding him from the bullets raining down on him, the grenade exploded. Glass shattered every which way, and the armed men who had been prepared to enter and catch him and Harry in a deadly crossfire were tossed aside like rag dolls.

The way out back was clear now, and there was no question of what they had to do. Crouched over, using the rapidly disintegrating umbrella as cover, Eggsy ran for the rear of the house. He saw Cavaldi cut down by gunfire. He saw Harry duck out from behind his own umbrella and throw his lighter toward the men still clustered by the front door.

Bullets thudded into his back as he ran, pushing him forward. He felt no pain, only the punch of impact.

Then he was outside, leaping over broken glass and dead men alike, Oxfords skidding on the snowy surface of the deck. He vaulted at the wooden railing, intending to jump over and get clear of the house altogether.

"Eggsy, no!" Harry shouted just as he went airborne over the railing.

In a split second he realized his mistake. He had assumed the house had a backyard, snow-covered, maybe dotted here and there with black alpine trees bare for the winter. What he hadn't realized was that the land sloped sharply behind the villa, that the deck itself was shored up with wooden struts attached to the lower levels of the house as it hung out over the mountain.

Desperately he turned, trying to throw himself back at the railing. It was too late, though, he was already falling, and he only flailed at thin air.

An instant before it would have been too late, a hand closed about his wrist. His fall was sharply arrested, sending fiery pain jolting through his shoulder. He looked up in panic and saw Harry staring down at him, bent halfway over the railing in order to accommodate his weight.

Behind Harry, the house was on fire. Men were screaming, the ones who hadn't been killed in the grenade blast from the lighter.

Eggsy dangled from Harry's grip, clasping Harry's wrist with all his strength, his legs kicking out at nothing. Above him, Harry hung on with grim strength, and his eyes were bright with a fear Eggsy had never seen in him before, never even imagined him capable of.

Shots rang out. Harry jerked forward at the impact, the bullets striking his suit. All it would take was one, though, to end it all, a shot to the head that this time he wouldn't survive.

Their eyes met. Eggsy saw what Harry meant to do, and he nodded. It was their only chance.

He let go just as Harry deliberately pitched himself over the railing.

Together they fell.

****

**Now**

He wakes up to the gray light of morning. His leg hurts where he landed badly in his fall from Cavaldi's villa. His right shoulder throbs and his head aches. He's desperately thirsty and his stomach is cramping with hunger.

But he's alive.

Beside him, Harry sleeps on. He's lying half on top of Eggsy, his head on Eggsy's thankfully unhurt shoulder, his hair tickling Eggsy's cheek. His weight is heavy but not unpleasant, and he's wonderfully warm, which is what Eggsy needs right now more than anything else.

He lies there for a while before it dawns on him that it's quiet in here. Except for the crackling of their too-small fire and the steady sound of Harry's breathing, he can't hear anything. The wind has died down.

The storm has finally blown itself out.

Eggsy smiles in relief. This means Merlin can finally send in help.

****

**Yesterday**

The fall was endless. He tumbled and slid and spun through the snow, earth and sky trading places over and over until he wanted to be sick. He slammed hard into the ground, felt his glasses tear free, and then they were gone, following their own trajectory down the mountain.

A stand of thick pine trees finally broke his fall. Eggsy crashed into them with a sickening thud and lay still. The world was still spinning dizzily all around him. His ears and eyes were full of snow.

Blearily he picked up his head. He couldn't see anything at first, just snow and sky. He tried to wipe at his eyes, but nothing seemed to be working properly, like his brain and his body had lost communication with each other. Panic flared up within him, and he tried again. This time he managed to flop his arm up and scrape at his face.

The sight was not encouraging. The trees that had stopped him from sliding down any further loomed overhead, a small cluster of them he had been lucky to collide with. High on the mountain above him, a thin wisp of smoke rose into the sky, which was rapidly turning a chill gray color that gave Eggsy a deep sense of foreboding.

He couldn't see Harry anywhere.

Slowly he pulled himself up to his knees. His left ankle was throbbing, and other aches and pains were slowly making themselves known. His shoulder, his ribs, his skull. He didn't think anything was broken, though, which made him doubly lucky.

He got to his feet and took a tentative step forward. Instantly the pain in his ankle became a thousand times worse. He staggered, pinwheeling his arms, then fell over into the snow again. Damnit. He was going to have to keep his weight off his injured leg as much as possible.

He tried again, this time taking care not to put any weight on his bad leg. He stood there beneath the trees and looked up the mountain. He could see two distinct trails through the snow, one which led directly to where he now stood, and the other veering off to his left.

Eggsy shivered and rubbed his hands briskly together. It was already cold out and only getting colder; and that gray sky promised snow. Lots of snow.

He had to find shelter. He had to get in touch with Kingsman. But before any of that stuff, he had to find Harry. He had to make sure Harry was all right.

And hope that Harry had managed to hang on to his glasses, because if not, then they were both seriously fucked. Merlin would have seen the mission go wrong, and he would have seen their unplanned retreat from the house, but not even Merlin could follow them down a mountain where the marks they had left in the snow would be covered up soon with fresh snowfall.

There was nothing for it. He was going to have to find Harry, and then together they would have to make their way off the mountain.

****

Half an hour later, it had started snowing, and Eggsy had his arms wrapped around Harry.

Making his way down the mountain had been excruciatingly slow. The trees that had broken his fall were all too tall for him to reach any of their branches, so there was no chance of breaking one off and using it as a crutch. And walking with his body angled backwards down a steep, snowy slope with a possibly-but-hopefully-not broken ankle was impossible. In the end he had got down on his arse and simply moved in a controlled slide, using his good foot to brake when he started going too fast.

Moving in this completely undignified way, he first spotted Harry climbing up the mountain, a small dark blot against all that snow. He considered yelling out, thought about avalanches, and decided against it. Harry could probably see him too, after all. There was no reason to bring the whole mountain down on top of them.

As they drew closer, he began to be able to make out details. First off, Harry too had lost his glasses. That was bad. But worse was the fact that Harry was moving far too slowly to account for the snow and the steep slope; he was obviously hurt.

The thought made Eggsy's heart skip a beat. He had been just as eager as Harry was to see him back out in the field, and he had never stopped to consider the consequences. He had thought they had used up their bad luck the day Harry was shot in Kentucky. Now Harry was hurt again, and Eggsy blamed himself. He should have been faster, better, back at the villa. Better still, he should never have been so selfish and agreed to let Harry come with him. He should have stuck by the rules and reminded Harry that he wasn't cleared for field duty.

Not that Harry would have let him get away with this, and he knew it. But still. He could have at least _tried._

At last he gave up sliding and wrestled himself to his feet again. His arse and the backs of his legs were almost numb from cold, and the rest of him wasn't doing much better. He supposed he should be thankful that he hadn't lost his shoes in the fall, although his feet were cold enough that he wasn't sure how much difference the Oxfords were making. Overhead the sky was a leaden gray color now, and as Eggsy stood there, the first snowflakes began to fall.

Harry climbed the last few steps between them and then he was there, snow speckling his suit, one thick curl dangling over his forehead. In utter relief, Eggsy threw his arms around him. "Harry, oh my God."

"How badly are you hurt?" Harry asked, still holding him.

" 'm okay," Eggsy said. "What about you?"

"Nothing a couple days rest won't fix," Harry said. He scanned the mountainside. "We can't go back into the town. Too many unsavory people might be waiting for us there. I saw a place we might take shelter, but it means some walking." He looked at Eggsy, a bloodied scrape along the side of his face, his tie loosened but still knotted. "Can you do that?"

"Of course," Eggsy said immediately. But then he hesitated. "How far is it?"

Harry pointed. "Just below the pass."

Eggsy looked, but he saw nothing except more snow and mountains. Still, he trusted Harry. "Yeah, okay," he said. "Let's go."

****

The trek across the mountain was sheer torture. Harry slid his arm about Eggsy's waist to support him, but even that didn't help much. Walking hurt like hell, and he knew he was leaning on Harry far more than he should, but he couldn't help it.

As they walked, Harry told him that he had nearly managed to hang onto his glasses as tumbled down the mountain, but then he had landed badly on his arm and he hadn't been able to grab them when they went flying away from him.

Eggsy saw the way Harry was holding his arm close to his chest, and his heart did that funny jolt in his chest again. "Is it broken?"

"No, I don't think so," Harry replied, but Eggsy didn't know if he was lying or not.

"However," Harry said, and he sounded pleased, "I did hold onto Cavaldi's flash drive. It's still in my pocket."

Eggsy shook his head. He had forgotten all about the flash drive in the more immediate need to avoid being killed. "Whatever's on there," he said, "it better be worth it."

The snow began to fall heavier and thicker. The wind rose sharply, cutting right through his suit. Despite the warmth of Harry's body beside his, Eggsy began to shiver. His ankle hurt him more than he wanted to let on, and his entire body was throbbing with pain. Snow caked his shoes, and more and more often he slipped and nearly fell, kept upright only by the strength of Harry's arm.

"Not far now," Harry said encouragingly.

He glanced up, and yeah, he could see the cabin now. It didn't look like much – even from here he could see the gaping hole in the roof – but it would be miles better than staying out in the storm.

A gust of wind drove snow into his face. He pawed at his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He staggered forward another step, and beside him, Harry slipped and fell.

With Harry's arm around him, Eggsy didn't stand a chance. He was pulled down, and then they were both sliding through the snow, the treacherous mountainside wanting to be rid of them. He yelled in fear, in anger, in pain as his injured leg thumped against the ground.

Then as fast as it had begun, their descent stopped. Snow plumed up all around them as they plowed to a halt, then settled back down. Fine white crystals drifted onto Eggsy's face and coated his eyelashes.

"Oh, fuck," he sighed.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asked. He sounded breathless. "I'm sorry, Eggsy. Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Eggsy nodded. He rolled his head in the snow and looked over at Harry, who lay there with thick snow crusted on his hair and suit. With a grimace, he managed to get to his feet. "You?"

In answer, Harry stood up, walked over and kissed him.

Eggsy was so startled he nearly slipped and fell all over again. Then Harry's good arm shot out and stabilized him, and he had both arms wrapped around Harry, and it was all good.

Well, except for the fact that they were cold and wet and standing on a mountain in the middle of a rising blizzard.

For a few moments, though, none of that stuff mattered. Harry's mouth was plenty warm, and the heat that uncurled in Eggsy's belly quickly spread through his entire body. His breath steamed in the air as he nipped at Harry's bottom lip before kissing him again, slow and wet, his tongue slick in Harry's mouth.

In spite of the circumstances, he could have happily stood there kissing Harry for a while yet, but another gust of wind smacked into them, making the exposed skin on his face and hands smart with cold and reminding him rather painfully of where they were.

"What's it Arthur's always saying?" he said. "We're gonna have to table this discussion until a later time."

His cheeks red with cold, Harry nodded. His eyes were light with humor though as he said, "Entirely my fault, Gawain."

"Don't let it happen again, Galahad," Eggsy scolded with a smile. He brushed at the snow sticking to his suit. The miserable cold damp on his arse and legs was spreading now; after that last tumble, they would both be soaked through by the time they reached the cabin.

Harry's arm eased about his waist again. Together they set off for the cabin, which looked even more far away than ever, now that the storm was upon them.

The warmth that Harry's kiss had given him was gone within seconds. There was nothing then but the biting wind and the growing cold. They staggered on, slipped, regained their balance, and fought their way forward again. Time slowed down, then seemed to stop altogether. The cabin with the hole in the roof never seemed to get any closer, and at last Eggsy stopped looking at it completely.

"Did I ever tell you," he panted, "that I went skiing once?"

"No," Harry said. "Tell me about it."

"I was crap at it," Eggsy said. He set one foot down, then the other, then the other. Doggedly refusing to give up. "Fell down on the beginner hill and everything." His foot slipped, pain shot up his leg, and he cursed, clutching at Harry. "But I gotta tell you, bruv, if someone handed me a pair of skis right now, I think I'd give 'em a big ol' kiss."

"Should I be jealous?" Harry asked mildly. He sounded almost as out of breath as Eggsy, which only made Eggsy feel worse for leaning on him so heavily.

"Nah," Eggsy shivered. "Wouldn't mean anything. 'sides, you know you're the only one for me."

Harry didn't answer that right away. When he did, he spoke so quietly that Eggsy almost couldn't hear him over the rising wind.

"As you are for me."

****

The cabin that Harry had seen, that they had pinned their survival on, was hardly more than a shell of a building. Eggsy couldn't believe it hadn't already fallen apart in the screaming wind. There were three rooms altogether, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a larger living area. In the front of the house, the roof had long ago fallen in, smashing to pieces and littering the floor with rotting shingles and splintered chunks of wood. The front door didn't hang straight, and the windows had long since been shattered. Only the back half of the place remained habitable; and even here the roof wasn't completely intact, but was poked through with holes and fallen timbers. 

But it was the only shelter they were going to find. Eggsy stood just inside their temporary refuge and looked around, his physical misery momentarily forgotten. The floor was wet and rotting, the wood buckled in many places. Snow drifted in through the gaps where the windows had been, and through the holes in the roof. Junk of all kinds lay scattered on the floor and drifted in the corners; pieces of the roof, plastic shopping bags, and in one corner, something that he was pretty sure was an ancient, used condom.

There was no furniture left in the place, but in the bedroom they found a couple of old blankets shot through with holes. There was also a fireplace.

"Sit down and get out of those wet clothes," Harry ordered.

"Aww, you just want to see me naked," Eggsy said between chattering teeth. Not that he felt very sexy right now, so cold that he couldn't really feel his hands and feet anymore.

Harry didn't bother answering this. He let go of Eggsy and headed for the largest pile of those broken chunks of wood. As he turned around, Eggsy looked up at him, and his heart nearly stopped. "Harry! Your neck!"

"It's quite all right," Harry said calmly. He leaned down and picked up one of the biggest scraps of wood. "Just a scrape from the fall."

"That's more than just a scrape," Eggsy said. The entire back of Harry's neck was covered in dried blood. Some of it had got in his hair, and his crisp white collar was stained bright red. 

"It's _fine,_ " Harry insisted. He came back over to where Eggsy still stood just inside the bedroom. "Take those clothes off _now_."

In his sudden fright over seeing the blood on Harry's neck, he had forgotten that his suit was wet through with snow and how cold he was. At this reminder, Eggsy shivered. "Only if you come warm me up."

"We need to get a fire started first," Harry said. As Eggsy unbuttoned his suit jacket with shaking fingers, Harry dropped his chunk of wood in the fireplace, then went back for another. He was using only his right hand, Eggsy noticed, while keeping his left arm held tight against his side. The sight of it drove a spear of pain into Eggsy's chest. Harry was hurt too, and just as cold and wet and miserable, but his only thought was for Eggsy and getting him warm again.

"One of these days," Eggsy muttered, "you're gonna go too far with this noble act, Harry Hart."

Harry ignored this. "Get those blankets," he said. "Wrap them around you."

"Tryin'," Eggsy muttered. He was shivering so hard that he could barely get his suit jacket off. His shoulder throbbed with pain as he tugged the wet material down over his arm, and he hissed in a sharp breath. He fumbled for his tie and could hardly get hold of it, his fingers were so numb.

Outside the wind was practically howling by now, driving snow into the cabin where it swirled around them. Eggsy tried again to loosen the knot in his tie, and shuddered so strongly that he nearly lost his balance, standing as he was with all his weight on only one leg.

"Here." He looked up as Harry moved in front of him. "Let me," Harry said, and began helping him out of his wet shirt.

Too tired and cold to argue, Eggsy accepted the assistance and went to work on his tie. Right around the time Harry had undone most of his buttons, he finally managed to get the tie off and over his head. He peeled off the shirt and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuuuuck," he breathed as the frigid air hit his bare chest.

"Quickly," Harry said. "Now the rest of them." He was shivering badly, too, as he dropped another few pieces of wood in the fireplace.

"Can you get a fire going?" Eggsy asked. He didn't doubt Harry's competence at survival skills; it was more a question of whether or not that old wood would burn.

"Let me worry about that," Harry said as he walked off again.

"And who's gonna worry about _you_?" Eggsy called. He eyeballed the place he wanted to sit, aimed carefully, then dropped. Once he was settled on the floor, dust swirling all around him, he reached for his right shoe with trembling hands.

Harry came back into the bedroom with more wood for the fire. This time, though, he didn't leave right away. He picked up one of the blankets from the floor and shook it out as best he could, which wasn't all that well, given that he was only using one hand. Dust and dirt went flying every which way, and Eggsy grimaced.

Still, he'd rather have it than nothing.

"Here." Harry draped the blanket across his shoulders.

"Stop it," Eggsy said. He yanked off his shoe, peeled his sock away, then winced at the angry red color of his foot. He poked carefully at his toes; he could feel the prodding of his finger, but just barely. "Get the fire going and then get over here, Harry. You're just as cold as me."

Left shoe next, and that hurt. A lot. Every movement jostled his ankle and made him grit his teeth with the pain. Getting his sock off hurt even more. After that, undoing his belt and shoving his soaked trousers down was almost easy – until he had to slide the whole affair past his ankle. He couldn't help groaning then, no matter how hard he tried not to.

By then Harry was kneeling in front of the fireplace, hard at work on getting the fire started. He had used one of his own shoelaces and a small piece of wood to make the bow, but he was obviously having difficulty with it, hampered as he was by his injury.

"Let me," Eggsy said. He scooted on his arse closer to the fireplace. "You get out of those wet clothes. I can do this."

Without a word, Harry let him take over fire duty. Eggsy got right to work, confident in his skills. He had learned how to use a bow drill to make fire as a Marine, then again during his Kingsman training. It was a little harder than he was used to, because he was shivering so much, but he wasn't worried. He knew he could do this.

Beside him, Harry quickly removed his wet clothing, flinching hard as he pulled his injured arm through his sleeve. He looked just as battered as Eggsy was, and given his age, he probably felt it worse than Eggsy did.

As the first wisps of smoke began to rise from the pile of wood shavings, Harry hurried over and got the second blanket. He shook that one out too, then returned to where Eggsy sat. He wrapped the blanket around himself, then moved in close.

Instinctively Eggsy leaned in his direction, craving his body heat. He didn't stop his work on the fire, though. He couldn't stop. They needed the fire and the heat it could provide. There was all this loose wood lying around them, but without a fire it was completely useless. If they couldn't get warm, and soon, they would die of hypothermia in this rotting cabin in the middle of the Alps, where no one would ever find them until it was too late.

The first flame licked up from the wood. Holding his breath, Eggsy kept at it. "Come on, come on, come on..."

Shivering convulsively, Harry practically draped himself across Eggsy's back, one arm wrapped around him. "Eggsy…"

"Come on, you bastard!" Eggsy cried, just as the fire finally caught.

He made himself wait a few precious seconds, long enough to make sure the flames wouldn't die out right away, then he placed some of the chunks of wood across the pile of shavings. The moment they began to burn, he turned in Harry's embrace and wrapped both arms around him, hugging him tight.

"Wait," Harry breathed. "Wait." He pulled the blanket off his shoulders and leaned forward, spreading it across their bare legs and feet.

Catching on, Eggsy helped out, making sure they were both covered. With the edge of his own blanket clutched in his fist, he slid his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in close, wrapping them both up.

"Better," Harry approved, his face pressed to Eggsy's neck.

Eggsy shivered and said nothing. He knew he should be thinking about survival, what they were going to do for food and water, what they could do to cover the broken windows and keep the snow and wind from getting in. But right now all he cared about was getting warm again, and making sure Harry was safe and warm with him.

He had seen the truth as Harry worked on the fire. He knew that the blood on Harry's neck hadn't come from a mere scrape, or from any injury during the fall down the mountain. That deep gouge on the back of his neck could have only come from a bullet. Had he been just half a second slower in throwing himself over the railing of the deck at Cavaldi's villa, he would be lying there right now, dead. 

The thought made Eggsy shudder all over, and for once the cold had nothing to do with it.

"We'll be all right," Harry said. It might have only been wishful thinking on Eggsy's part, but he didn't seem to be shivering quite so hard anymore.

"I know," Eggsy said. He tightened his hold on Harry. "I know."

****

**Now**

Harry comes awake all at once, the way he does every morning. Sometimes Eggsy watches him, the way Harry's entire body tenses up in that first moment of waking before his brain catches up and reminds him where he is, and he wonders how long it'll be before he starts doing the same thing.

"The storm stopped," he says.

"Finally some good news," Harry says. He's relaxed now, draped across Eggsy all loose and pliant, like it's Sunday morning and they have nowhere pressing to be.

"How long do you think it'll take Merlin to find us?" Eggsy asks.

"He probably already knows," Harry says. "He knows our last position before he lost contact with us and he has satellite photos of the area. Anyone would be able to guess that we would make for this shelter."

That really is good news, and Eggsy blows out his breath. "Remind me not to go on any more missions with you."

Harry lifts his head from Eggsy's shoulder. "Nonsense," he says. "Aren't you the one always reminding us all to have a little more fun?"

"Harry," Eggsy groans, "falling halfway down a mountain and nearly freezing to death is not my idea of fun."

Harry drops his head back down and smiles; Eggsy can't see that smile, but he can feel it on his bare skin. "Well, maybe you're right on that one."

They lay quietly for a while. Eggsy thinks about the snow they set out to melt late last night. He's not too keen on the idea of drinking frigid snow water, but he's thirsty enough to not care all that much. Now that the storm has stopped, he thinks they can probably afford to take the second blanket down off the window; they used the clasps of their belt buckles to tack the blanket up, and one of Eggsy's shoes to weight the other end down on the windowsill.

Their clothes are hopefully dry by now too, spread out across the floor not far from where they're lying. They should get up and check. If anyone from Kingsman catches them like this, Roxy will never let him live it down. There's even a chance Arthur might decide to revoke Harry's brand-new status as field agent. Galahad and Gawain might be finished before they even really began.

Harry shifts, and then rolls off him. He sits up, wincing with pain as he does. He bows his head a little; he must have one hell of a headache on top of the lingering one from Valentine's bullet.

"I'll check on the water, yeah?" Eggsy offers. Already he feels cold without Harry's warmth right there.

"Sounds good to me," Harry sighs.

In spite of himself, Eggsy can't help flinching. He's never forgotten that those were Harry's last words outside the church, almost his last words in this life altogether.

He doesn't say anything, though. He just lurches awkwardly to his feet, using the wall for support. In the clear light of morning, his left ankle is mottled purple and blue and badly swollen. When he tries to put his weight on that foot, pain shoots all the way up his leg, and he pulls back instantly. "Fuck that hurts."

"Sit down," Harry says. "I've got this."

"Yeah," Eggsy says, "but I still gotta take a piss."

Still wrapped in the blanket, pressed together from shoulder to hip, they hobble through the cabin and outside. It's bitterly cold out, but the skies are clearing; the sun should be out in an hour or so. If he didn't have to pee so much, his dick would laugh at him for trying to hang it out there in such aching cold.

Back inside, they drink some of the melted snow water. It has no taste and is so cold it hurts Eggsy's teeth and makes him shudder when it hits his stomach. But it helps his thirst, which is what really matters. 

Harry checks their clothes. "Mostly dry," he says. "Stiff as cardboard, though."

"Don't care," Eggsy says. He's shivering again already.

Putting on his trousers hurts, but it's worth it for the protection they provide. He manages to get his sock on, but his ankle is too swollen to pull it up any higher, so he settles for just covering his foot. His shoe, though, he discards as not-gonna-happen.

"Shit," he says. "Shit. This _hurts_."

Harry nods. "Broken."

As much as he hates to admit it, Eggsy is forced to say, "Maybe." He glowers, then looks at Harry. "Your arm?"

Harry considers it, then says, "Maybe."

It's really not funny, but Eggsy can't help laughing a little. "Christ, Harry, we're a pair, ain't we?"

"That we are," Harry says as he sits beside Eggsy and drapes the blanket over them again. He's buttoned his shirt one-handed, but it's not tucked in. With his hair falling all over the place and fresh stubble on his cheeks, he looks as trashy as Eggsy has ever seen him. 

And in spite of the very real danger they're still in, he can't help the sudden rush of attraction he feels. That's how far gone he is, he thinks. How much he fucking loves this man.

Before he can overthink it, he leans over and kisses Harry.

Harry kisses him back, putting one hand on the back of his head. His lips are cold, but then again, so are Eggsy's. There is nothing cold about the kiss, though, or the way their breath steams in the cold air.

But they can't, there's no way, and the same thought must occur to Harry at the same time, because they pull away together. Eggsy bows his head a little, and so does Harry, and they lean in, foreheads touching. It's so ridiculous that Eggsy closes his eyes and smiles. They nearly froze to death last night, and they're nowhere near safe yet, but he's still stupidly, amazingly happy.

"Can I ask you something?" he says. The words are completely unplanned, but that's okay. This is a good time to ask. He can feel it.

"Of course," Harry says.

He sits up straight so he can see Harry's face. "What were you saying last night?" he asks. He does his best with the accent, but he's pretty sure he mangles it anyway. "What does _Ti terrò al sicuro_ mean?"

"Ah," Harry says. He looks at Eggsy, his eyes soft pools in the morning light, inviting Eggsy to drown in their depths. He reaches up with his good hand and brushes the backs of his fingers along Eggsy's cheek. "It means, _I'll keep you safe_."

Eggsy's heart beats painfully in his chest. He thinks about everything that happened yesterday, everything Harry did for him, the terror in Harry's eyes as he leaned out over that deck, holding onto Eggsy's wrist and refusing to let him drop. 

He never knew it was possible to love someone this much. "Oh," he breathes.

They lean in again, and this time Eggsy thinks he's going to let himself drown, just give himself up to what he sees in Harry's eyes. This time they're going to end up doing more than kissing, the cold be damned – and that's when the knock on the front door reverberates through the whole cabin. "Galahad? Gawain?"

Eggsy jerks in surprise, but he doesn't move. "Lancelot."

"With impeccable timing as always," Harry says dryly.

Eggsy laughs. He can't help it. It's the joy of being rescued, of sharing this moment with Harry. "I guess we'll just have to pick up where we left off when we get back, yeah?"

Harry gives him a quick kiss. "That's a promise," he says, and there is no doubt that he means it. Because he loves Eggsy too, it's all there in his eyes, and that knowledge is enough to keep Eggsy warm even through the bitterest cold.

"Galahad?" The door opens and Roxy walks in, dressed in full halo gear, Kingsman glasses perched on her nose. "Gawain?"

From where he sits on the floor, a dirty, holey blanket wrapped about his shoulders, his mouth still burning from Harry's kiss, Eggsy waves at her. "Took ya long enough."

Roxy looks at them both and her shoulders slump in relief. "Oh, thank God." Then she says, "Merlin, I found them. They're all right."

This is both true and not true. "Yeah," Eggsy says. "Harry's hurt."

Right at the same time that Harry says, "But Eggsy is injured."

In an instant, Roxy's smile dies away. Now she looks anxious. "Are you—"

His laughter from a few moments before is still there, bubbling up in his chest, and suddenly it's all Eggsy can do not to give in to it. He can't explain why he should feel so happy. He doesn't even really care about the why. Maybe he's in shock. Maybe he got knocked on the head harder than he realizes. Whatever the reason, it doesn't matter. All he knows is that everything that's happened over the last couple days, the chaos at the villa and the long fall down the mountain, the eternal night of cold and the screaming wind, the relief of being rescued and the lingering echo of Harry speaking to him in Italian – it's all blurred into a sense of the utter ridiculous.

So he grins up at Roxy and he says, "I sure could use a drink, Rox."

She gapes at him. "What?"

"Have you brought the cold-weather survival packs?" Harry asks. He looks perfectly innocent sitting there, but even without so much as a shared glance between them, Eggsy knows he's in on the joke. And it makes him love Harry even more than ever. "The ones with the thermal blankets?"

"Yes," Roxy says. She looks a bit wary now; she's smart, Roxy is. She knows something's up.

"And food?" Eggsy prompts. "We're absolutely _famished_ , you know."

Roxy looks at him, then at Harry, then she rolls her eyes. "Yes, Merlin," she says with a pointed glare. "I'm sure they're both perfectly _fine_." She walks out of the bedroom, toward the front of the cabin and out into the morning, talking to Merlin about bringing in the chopper.

Still grinning, Eggsy turns to Harry. "Hear that? We're perfectly fine."

Harry gives him a fond smile; only the corners of his mouth curve upward, but his eyes are soft and warm. "It would seem that way."

"Promise me," Eggsy says, "next time we'll go somewhere warm."

Harry's smile bursts into the real deal, lighting up his entire face. It's a rare sight, one that Eggsy treasures all the more for how infrequently he gets to see it.

He leans in for another quick kiss. He can hear the steady beat of a helicopter approaching. Another few minutes and they'll be on their way.

"Ready to go home?" Harry asks.

Eggsy nods. Home is that house they share, his suits hanging in the closet next to Harry's. Home is JB and Daisy and his mum. Home is lying in bed with Harry in a tangle of limbs and luxuriously soft sheets, while outside the London fog rolls in. Home is looking up at Harry, the way he's doing right now, and knowing that there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

"Yes," he says.

Harry gets an arm around him and helps him stand up. "Then let's go," he says.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://missbeckywrites.tumblr.com/). I did a fair amount of research for this story, but none of it came close to killing me until I listened to this interview of [Colin Firth speaking Italian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-ZWufvZN7g).


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